


Nightmares

by ineffablenerd15



Series: All My Love Belongs to You [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablenerd15/pseuds/ineffablenerd15
Summary: Thanks for reading!
Relationships: Minho & Newt (Maze Runner), Minho & Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: All My Love Belongs to You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111136
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Nightmares

Thomas runs as fast as he can, his heart pounding in his chest. His breaths come out in ragged gasps but he doesn’t stop running. He’s debating whether to get rid of his spear but he doesn’t dare let go of his only weapon—especially when he doesn’t know what kind of creatures could be lurking out here.

A Griever appears out of the fog, it’s horrible, mushy exterior glowing silver in the moonlight. The Griever starts moving towards him, a horrible metal clanking filling the air at every step. Thomas tightens his grip on his spear, ready to attack the monster. But, oddly, the Griever rolls right past him, instead, heading for some unseen figure behind Thomas.

The griever extends a metal limb, grabbing the other person in one smooth motion. A horrible scream escapes from the person, echoing through the air over and over again. Thomas feels a wave of dread as he realizes who the Griever has in its grip.

“Newt!” Thomas screams, as the Griever slowly squeezes the boy. Another shriek escapes from Newt.

“Tommy!” is Newt’s strangled reply. He can see the horror and pain on Newt’s face as his face slowly grows blue and then purple before going pale again. Thomas falls to the ground, a sob escaping him. His shoulders shake as he presses his hands to his face, trying to stop the tears from falling. “Tommy. Tommy, wake up you bloody shank!”

Thomas’s eyes fly open to see a figure above him—blurry from the tears gathering in Thomas’s eyes. The figure clears as he blinks away the tears. Thomas recognizes the blond hair and skinny frame as well as the accent highlighting the words that had woken him up—it’s Newt.

“What?” Thomas grumbles, sitting up against the tree. Newt moves quickly out of his way to avoid getting hit. The tree bark digs into his back but he doesn’t mind—it’s a constant reminder that he’s awake.

“You were having a bloody nightmare, that’s what!” Newt replies. “Half the Gladers could hear your shouts. Minho was about ready to duct tape your mouth shut.”

“Yeah, well, Minho needs his mouth duct-taped shut too,” Thomas grumbles. “So why are you over here? Surprised you didn’t send someone else to come tell me to can it.” Newt’s face seems to grow darker but that might just be the little lighting.

“No one else wanted to come near your pitiful screams,” Newt grumbles. “Had to do it myself or sacrifice my beauty sleep.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Thomas says sarcastically. “You can go now. Don’t want you to skip out on your beauty sleep.” Newt stares at Thomas, his brown eyes filling with some emotion Thomas has never seen before—or, at least, can remember seeing before.

“What were you dreaming about, Tommy?”

“Does it matter?” Thomas shakes his head, not wanting to share his nightmare. He can still see Newt’s face in his mind. 

“It kind of does. Can’t have one of our bloody runners getting spooked by the Grievers, can we?” Newt settles next to Thomas, his knee brushing against Thomas’s side as he moves it. Thomas stares at Newt’s knee, watching it bob up and down. He’s seen Newt fidget before but never this badly.

“I suppose. I just had a dream about being in the maze an’ watching someone get killed by one of the Grievers. It wasn’t that bad. I was just overreacting, that’s all.” Newt picks at the grass by his feet. 

“Who did you watch die?” he asks softly, there’s a mixture of hope and pain in his voice.

Thomas wonders what’s the best way to tell your best friend that you’re hopelessly in love with him and have many nightmares about him dying. He wonders what Teresa would say. She was always telling him to tell Newt how he feels and now—when he has a chance—the words that had bubbled so readily at any other moment, escape him.

“You,” Thomas whispers. “I watched you die because that’s one of my biggest fears.” The only way he can tell Newt heard him is by the sudden stillness of his knee.

“Me? I feel bloody honored.” Newt’s voice is strange. 

“Are you okay, Newt?” Thomas asks. He wonders just how badly he messed up. Probably so badly that Newt will never want to talk to him again. That’s fine. If that’s what Newt wants, that’s what Thomas will do.

“I’m fine, Tommy. Just thinking.” Thomas falls silent, letting Newt think for as long as he needs. He picks at the grass next to him while he waits, attempting to tie different strands into knots.

“Tommy?” Newt’s knee starts moving again.

“Yeah, Newt?”

“I like you a lot.” Thomas smiles broadly.

“Newt?”

“Yeah, Tommy.”

“I like you a lot too.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, Newt?”

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” Nimble fingers cup Thomas’s face, pulling him gently towards Newt. Their lips meet in a soft and sweet kiss that doesn’t last long, just a moment or so. Thomas can’t stop smiling when Newt pulls back. The two stare at each other for a long while, the light of the moon lighting up their eyes.

“Newt?”

“Yes, you bloody shank?”

“Will you stay with me?” 

“Of course, you idiot.” Thomas lays down again, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He holds one of the corners up, waiting for Newt to crawl under the blanket. Newt settles next to him, curling himself around Thomas in a way that reminds him of koalas. Newt’s head rests on Thomas’s shoulder and his arms wrap around Thomas in an almost hug.  
Thomas closes his eyes, enjoying the way Newt’s breath tickles his chin. A large smile fills his face. All the times he dreamed about this very thing happening and, now, he doesn’t have to dream anymore.

This time, when Thomas dreams, he dreams of him and Newt, happy.

“Oh, this is good,” a voice says, far too cheerfully for however early in the morning it is. Thomas opens his eyes to see Minho’s smug face hovering a little ways away from his face. 

“What do you bloody want, shank?” Newt groans, pressing his face into the spot where Thomas’s neck meets his shoulder. “Can’t you just give me and Tommy some peace and quiet from your annoying voice?”

“Nope. Thomas and Newtie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he sings, dancing around the tree. “First comes love, then comes marriage-”

“Then comes me throwing you in the shucking Slammer,” Newt growls, finally sitting up. He still keeps extremely close to Thomas, though.

“Aww, don’t be grumpy, Newtie, we all knew about your gigantic crush on the Greenie,” Minho says, crouching down next to the two. “Why do you think we sent _you_ over here? We could’ve sent poor Chuckie to deal with this ugly shank but we sent you. You’re welcome.” Minho stands up, looking extremely proud of himself. “Now, come on, Greenie. We’ve got a maze to run.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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